CHAPTER XXI

THE ACCIDENT

"I'd like to live up here!" It was Esther who spoke so enthusiastically,

as she stood, with Bob Henderson and the four girls, on the roof of the

building proudly pointed out as the tallest in Washington.

A soft breeze was blowing, and it was a cloudless day so that the

city was clearly spread before them.

"Wouldn't I like to go up in an airplane!" exclaimed Betty. "See,

they're flying over the Navy Yard now. I'd give anything to know how

it feels to fly."

"If you go much nearer that edge you'll know how it feels all

right," Bob warned her. "Come down here and I'll show you our drying

racks. Perhaps that will keep your mind off airplanes."

The wooden racks held lengths of silk and cloth, weighted at the

ends to keep them from blowing away. The materials were dyed in

crude, vivid colors, and Bob explained that they were brought from

the factory after being dipped so that his employer might personally

observe the changes they underwent after exposure to strong sunlight.

"We only take orders and send out salesmen from the office

downstairs," he said. "The factory is near Georgetown and employs

about two hundred hands."

After they had made the circuit of the roof, picking out familiar

landmarks and wrangling lazily over distances and geographical

boundaries, they were ready to go down. Bob must return to work, and

the girls had planned a trip to the Bureau of Engraving and Printing.

"I tell you I was glad our office wasn't on the top floor this

morning," Bob casually remarked as they stood waiting for the

elevator. "Something was the matter, and everybody had to walk up.

The fourth floor was plenty far enough up for us then."

"Mother always says we don't appreciate conveniences till we have to

do without them," said Bobby. "Here comes the car."

The grinning negro boy who operated the elevator smiled a wide smile

as they filed into his car.

"You-all get a nice view?" he asked sociably.

They assured him that they had, and he seemed pleased, but his red

light glowing at that moment, he gave all his attention to stopping

at the next floor. Two women got on and, at the next floor, two men.

The gate had just closed after this last stop, and Betty had opened

her mouth to tell Bobby that her hat was tipped crookedly when with a

sickening speed the car began to drop!

"We's slipping! I can't stop her! Oh, good gracious, the brakes or

nothin' don't work!" The frenzied wail of the negro who was working

valiantly at his levers gave the first intimation of danger.

Betty saw Bob spring to his aid, saw Esther sink in a miserable

little white heap to the floor, Bobby put her hands up to her eyes as

if to shut out the light, and Louise mechanically try to defend

herself from the strangle hold of the woman who stood next to her. It

seemed minutes to Betty that the car was falling, and she watched the

others' behavior with a curious, semi-detached interest that was

oddly impersonal. One of the men passengers began to claw at the gate

frantically and the other kept muttering under his breath, softly and

steadily, biting off his words crisply and quite unconscious of what

he was saying. The woman who had clutched Louise was silent at first,

but her companion instantly screamed, and in a fraction of a second

she, too, was screaming.

Now Betty had never heard the sound of women in terror, and she was

unprepared for the wild anguish of those shrill voices.

The experience was terrifying, but it was all over very swiftly. The

mechanism jammed between the third and second floors and the elevator

came to a stop with a suddenness that jarred the teeth of the

passengers. It had begun to fall after leaving the seventh floor.

For a moment every one stared at every one else stupidly. Bobby

Littell was the first to find her voice.

"Well, I guess we're all here," she observed matter-of-factly.

"Esther, are you hurt?"

"No-o, I think not," said Esther slowly. "Wasn't it awful! Let's get

out of here, quick."

A hasty investigation proved that no one was injured, and as one of

the men said, shaken nerves could not be allowed to count.

"That was a narrow escape, a mighty narrow escape!" said the other

man. "I fully expected to be smashed in the wreck of the car when it

struck the concrete well."

"I'll never ride in another elevator, never!" ejaculated the woman

who had seized Louise. "Why, I'll dream of this for weeks to come."

The girls said nothing, though their lips were white and Betty's

knees were trembling. She was rather angry that she should feel this

loss of control after everything was over, but it was natural.

"How do we get out?" Bob addressed the operator briskly. "Can you

open the doors? Come on now, nothing is going to hurt you--the danger

is over."

The poor darky was actually gray with fright, and his face was

bruised where he had been thrown against the grating when the car

stopped.

"I doan know how you-all kin get out, Boss," he said tremulously.

"We's stuck between the floors."

"Hello! Hello you, down there! Anybody hurt?" a friendly bellow came

down to them from the grating of the floor above.

A crowd had collected on each floor, having heard the screams, and

all these people now ran downstairs to get as close to the stranded

car as they could. They collected about the gate on the third floor,

and many from the street, hearing that there had been an accident,

crowded around the shaft on the second floor. They were advised that

no one was hurt and what was needed was a way of escape from the

brass cage.

"Knock a hole in the roof," some one advised cheerfully. "You can

crawl out on the top of the car and then shinny your way up to us. Or

we'll let down a rope to you."

"What'll we knock a hole in the roof with?" demanded Bob, and when

offers were made to drop an axe down to him he had difficulty in

calming the woman who had so nearly strangled Louise, and who had

visions of being accidently decapitated.

"I cain't get the doors open," announced the darky, after tinkering

vainly with them. "I reckon the lock's done got jammed. If I could

get 'em open the lil girl under the seat could shinny up the wall and

that would be one out, 'tannyrate."

Attention thus focused upon her, Libbie crawled from under the seat

where she had dived, following an ostrich-like impulse to hide her

head from coming danger. Her confusion was increased by the tactless

comment of the operator who, seeing her "full view" for the first

time, exclaimed:

"Lawsy, Missie, you couldn't shinny up no wall. You is too fat."

Many suggestions were forthcoming, all of them impractical, and the

already frayed nerves of the passengers began to show evidence of

reaching the snapping point. Bob's employer was among those who had

gathered in the corridor, and he decidedly favored the axe idea.

The plan to chop their way out gained in favor, and a boy had been

dispatched for one of the fire axes when the woman who had grasped

Louise created a diversion by going into hysterics and declaring that

she would not have them dropping axes on her head. Her companion

tried in vain to soothe her, but she was in a highly nervous state

and it was impossible to explain or reason with her. She began to

scream again, and this was more than those imprisoned in the car with

her could be expected to stand.

"That settles it--call off the axe!" shouted the older man,

exchanging a desperate glance with Bob. "If this goes on much longer

we'll be floated out on a river of salt tears. It's all right, Madam,

they are not going to send any axes down."

The women continued to sob violently for a time, but at last they

got her quieted and were free to consider other ways and means of

escape.

Pat Kelly, the genial engineer of the building, was sent down to the

basement to see what he could do with the refractory machinery, for

although the elevator people had been telephoned to, their men had not

yet put in an appearance. Pat's contribution was to create a horrible

din by hammering on every pipe he came to, stopping at three-minute

intervals to yell, "Can ye be moving now?"

"Call that man off!" shouted the younger of the two men passengers.

"What do you think this is--a boiler factory? About all the good

he'll do will be to dislodge the car, and we'll fall the rest of the

way."

This was a bad suggestion, and only by hard work were two more cases

of hysterics averted.

"I think what we need is a drink of water," declared Betty timidly.

"Do you think they could get some down to us? And, Bob, why don't

they send for the fire department?"

"I suppose because we are not on fire," answered Bob seriously.

"What good could the firemen do?"

"Oh, I don't know," said Betty vaguely. "Only in Pineville the

firemen get people out of all sorts of scrapes. They can climb you

know, and they have long ladders and ropes----"

"By George, the girl is right!" The elder man looked at Betty

admiringly. "Hey, some of you who want to help! Go and 'phone the

fire department. And say, send us down some water--we're dry as dust

after this rumpus."

Half of the waiting crowd scattered to telephone to the fire

department and the other half ran for the water coolers. Their zeal

outstripped their judgment in this latter service, and the result was

an icy stream of water that poured into the car.

Betty Gordon in Washington; Or, Strange Adventures in a Great City · 第 21 / 25 章